


Incoming Call

by TheKawaiitan



Series: Business as Usual [2]
Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types
Genre: Birthday Smut, Cunnilingus, F/M, fuck u munakata for punching my husband twenty times in the head is the major theme here, idk the tag for secret sexy time phonecalls
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-07
Updated: 2018-10-07
Packaged: 2019-07-27 10:26:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16217132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheKawaiitan/pseuds/TheKawaiitan
Summary: "“What if I want to celebrate?” She huffs against his ear and enjoys how he shivers.Kyoko rests her chin on his shoulder, pressing her chest to his back, and snaking her hands under his shirt. She’s still taller than him but that gap slowly shrunk over the years much like the distance between her hands and his belt buckle.“Even just… a little?” She said the last words slowly, letting her tongue brush against his earlobe.She’s teasing him, nipping at his ear and rubbing his thighs after grazing past his crotch. She gets close, so close. It hasn’t been long, and she’s barely touched him. But his haggard breathing tells her she won’t need much longer before he takes things into his own hands. “Wh-wh aah-… What about… dinner,” he huffs, putting his hands on top of hers guiding them to his belt.“I’m busy so I’ll eat later…” She undoes the clasp. “But if you’re hungry now…”"Post-Hope Arc. It's Kyoko's birthday and nothing will stop her from her fiance's present.





	Incoming Call

**Author's Note:**

> hey whats up my name is finn and this was supposed to be posted last year but guess who was a recovering alcoholic!!! me bitch!!! turn up for the baddest bitch on the block, kyoko kirigiri!!!!!!!!!!
> 
> also i switched from word doc to google drive and gd doesn't automatically add fancy marks to works so sorry for the inconsistency in markups, i dont care and want this fic out of my head before it haunts me fore the rest of my life!!!!!!!!!!!

Pushing the door open, Makoto Naegi makes way for his fiancé to enter their shared living space: a cozy apartment with even cozier furniture. A simple foyer leads to the main hall, branching into the living room, kitchen, dining room, bathroom, and two bedrooms – the shared bedroom and a spare bedroom for any guests. Their home is warm and inviting, smelling vaguely of flowers. Makoto could find beautiful, fragrant flowers just about anywhere: the school grounds, Future Foundation’s arboretum, and even the sidewalks.

 

Kyoko Kirigiri enters and elegantly sits on the step entrance to their home. Smoothly, she pulls off her heeled boots then sets them against the step. In contrast, Makoto kicks his shoes off and nudges them next to hers. But coming together, he’s careful to help pull her coat off and hang it on the wall rack.

 

She thanks him and gives him a quick peck on the cheek. Makoto feels his face flush in embarrassment, whether this was the first or thousandth kiss. Kyoko is a gift.

 

“H-happy birthday,” Makoto whispers, rubbing his cheek as if trying to imprint the sensation of her lips on his skin forever. She smiles softly and gives him another peck on the other cheek. “Makoto, you’ve said happy birthday to me seven times already.”

 

“Yeah but like… it should be a holiday,” he says plainly without a hint of sarcasm, imitating the same bluntness in the way Kyoko says things matter-of-factly. She gives him one more kiss but this time on his forehead. “So… what else can I say to get you to kiss me again,” he asks innocently. She gives him a small laugh but no response. She heads to the kitchen, stretching her arms above her head.

 

Hanging his own coat, he follows her into the kitchen and heads for the fridge. “What were you thinking for dinner,” he asks, perusing through their quasi-stocked fridge. He debates between getting a few groceries this weekend to supplement their future meals or to wait one more week and get a large load of groceries.

 

Kyoko flips through her notebook sitting at the table, searching for a specific page. “I’ll see how I feel after this meeting in… in… in…” she sustains, flipping from chunks of pages to single leaves. “One hour. The conference _starts_ in an hour and is scheduled to take an hour. But this is Future Foundation, it’ll probably be… two.”

 

Makoto let out an exaggerated groan while pulling out some vegetables to chop into tonight’s dinner.

 

“But it’s your birthday. I know we planned to celebrate this weekend but shouldn’t we celebrate, even just a little,” he almost begs. He looks around the fridge a bit more, checking the number of eggs and giving the milk carton a bit of a shake to check it’s contents. “I can probably make some pudding for dessert if you’d like. It’s not a cake but you’re not really that big on really sweet things, right?”

 

He picks up the chicken he set in the fridge from the freezer that morning to thaw and closes the fridge. He sets it down on the counter next to the vegetables then rummages in the cupboards for his cooking prep. Taking a cutting board from the cabinet and a knife from the stand, he sets them to the side of the sink.

 

“Not many sweet things” he hears her say behind him.

 

He takes the mitsuba parsley and gives them a quick rinse and lightly dabs them with a paper towel.

 

“Just you.”

 

Makoto’s shoulders jump a little and he rubs his face with the back of his hand. Recomposing himself, he shakes his collar straight and rotates his shoulders, as if trying to brush off how startled he was with feigned soreness. He doesn’t know whether to say thank you or say nothing. But he knows not to look at her because his face is feeling especially warm.

 

“So uh, do you want something you can eat while you’re on the phone or do you want to eat after,” he asks over his shoulder as he begins to chop. But a sudden warmth on his ear makes him shiver and almost drop the knife.

 

“What if I want to celebrate?” She huffs against his ear and enjoys how he shivers.

 

Kyoko rests her chin on his shoulder, pressing her chest to his back, and snaking her hands under his shirt. She’s still taller than him but that gap slowly shrunk over the years much like the distance between her hands and his belt buckle.

 

“Even just… a little?” She said the last words slowly, letting her tongue brush against his earlobe.

 

She’s teasing him, nipping at his ear and rubbing his thighs after grazing past his crotch. She gets close, _so close_ . It hasn’t been long, and she’s barely touched him. But his haggard breathing tells her she won’t need much longer before he takes things into his own hands. “Wh-wh _aah_ -… What about… dinner,” he huffs, putting his hands on top of hers guiding them to his belt.

 

“I’m busy so I’ll eat later…” She undoes the clasp. “But if you’re hungry now…”

 

She doesn’t say much more, before pulling away from him. He spins on his heel ready to take her right then and there – hands already undoing his buckle –  when he freezes in place. With her back towards him, Kyoko slowly bends over and reaches under her form fitting skirt, cognizant on how the fabric hugs her hips. She flashes the skin above her thigh highs before slowly tantalizing him, drawing down her black panties – _the ones for special occasions_.

 

“Makoto?”

 

…

 

_“Makoto…?”_

 

Kyoko turns to face him. But his eyes are caught on her thighs, replaying the memory of Kyoko bending over and _god damn she makes formal business wear so hot._ Her thighs, her hips, her chest, _her butt_ , everything about her physical form makes Makoto sweat.

 

**_“Makoto.”_ **

 

“Oh! Y-yes?”

 

“Aren’t you hungry,” she asks striding up to him, stuffing her panties into his front pocket and heading towards their bedroom. Watching her walk away, his hands wander aimlessly around his pockets, eyes still where she disappeared into the hall, so over stimulated he didn’t quite remember which pocket she choose.

 

They were in his right pocket.

 

They weren’t dry.

 

Swallowing, Makoto stuffs her panties into his back pocket and returns to the sink. He pushes the cutting board away from the counter’s edge and turns on the water with shaking hands. Letting the cool water flow through his fingers for a few seconds, he rubs his cheeks trying to calm himself down. Admittedly, this is quite the tease but having been together for so many years and still being flustered, he’s a little embarrassed. Turning the water off and gently slapping himself awake, Makoto pushes his hair back and takes a deep breath.

 

Down the hall and towards their room, he pulls off his belt and unbuttons his shirt. Opening the door to their room, he didn’t bother putting the discarded clothes in the hamper. With his shirt under his belt, he lets them drop and avoids an uncomfortable metal thud. Kyoko is on the bed, blazer off to the side and lazily drawing circles on the sheets. Legs together and to the side, she’s inviting him to come closer and explore.

 

Makoto has to stop and recompose himself. He’s imagined her like this on his desk before, and there’s no way he’d ask her to, but that doesn’t mean he can’t keep fantasizing about it.

 

Slowly, he gets to the foot of the bed, knee first and unzips his pants without properly removing them. They slide down his hips just a little, exposing more of the V of his stomach. Before Kyoko is not the timid, nebbish boy she met in the halls of Hope’s Peak Academy but the man who survived two killing games… yet managed to still be that timid, nebbish boy to some degree. But it’s still him – the man she loves.

 

Both Makoto Naegi and Kyoko Kirigiri, soon Kyoko Naegi, have their own developed styles of leadership and force. But together, they’re equal. It’s a shared call and action. But today is her birthday and Makoto is going to treat his lover.

 

She’s giving him a sly smile. His deep breathing, flushed cheeks, the hungry crawl towards her eager body, piercing eyes – she gives a soft gasp when he grazes her neck with his lips. No nibble or bites, just restless kisses.

 

Makoto is usually reserved, gently guiding her and himself when he takes charge but today, he’s rough the way she likes it. His soft lips on her neck, impatient hands ripping her shirt open – buttons flying in different directions. It was a nice shirt, he knows this. But Makoto is the headmaster and buying new clothes for his future wife is a small matter compared to what he’s going to do for her.

 

Slowly unbuttoning her shirt would build her anticipation. But the rare times Makoto Naegi isn’t gentle, Kyoko’s excited. Her face was warm but the sudden coolness of the air on her torso, and then her arms when he slips the remains of her shirts off her shoulders, sends shivers on her skin but electricity in her body. But his hands feel like fire – up her sides, down her arms, and sliding under her bra.

 

He's careful not to grope too rough, her breasts are hypersensitive if he doesn’t give her a proper massage. Makoto begins to nibble and lick her neck and collar bone to cool her down while languidly kneading her chest in his hands. Her soft but sharp exhales tell him she’s enjoying her birthday present.

 

Soft, short vibrations catch Kyoko’s attention. That’s the standard setting for all minor work communications. It came from her blazer pocket. No matter, Makoto’s more important. But he starts to kiss up her neck and whispers in her ear, “Do you need to look at that?”

 

“I need you _more_.”

 

He’d like to rip her bra off as well but this one is special. It’s her favorite one and it matches her favorite panties – the one in his pocket. He also doesn’t want to push his luck. Kyoko loves when he takes charge but if he gets a little full of himself, she’ll remind him why she’s the greatest good he’s ever gonna get. So he reaches under her to undo the hook and tosses the impeding fabric aside.

 

Kyoko’s neck is raw from his previous love bites but he nibbles her soft spots again. Sometimes he bites with a little pressure, sometimes he’s just grazing his teeth against her skin. Regardless, he can feel the muscles in her neck moving between a bashful smile or an involuntarily moan being held back.

 

He decides no more kisses and takes her right breast into his mouth while pinching her left nipple. She squeaks out a moan. Kyoko’s been this hot before but each time feels just as new and exciting as the first. His finger tips leave a blazing trail as he remaps her body. The heat from his hands and welling fervor in her stomach make it too much. Under her fiance, shaking and gasping, she struggles to hook her thumbs onto the waistband of her skirt. It was too hot for her and it got hotter when Makoto pushed his knee between her legs.

 

One hand tangles in his hair, the other grasps his shoulder as Kyoko exhales his name in a mix between a huff and a gasp. Ever so slightly, he presses up more against her and she tightens her grip. She’s shaking in anticipation and Makoto can’t help himself. He backs off and they look at each other.

 

Her eyes are first drawn to his – calm, loving, focused. His cheeks aren’t as flushed like when she’s leading, telling her that Makoto isn’t as nervous. And his jawline is a lot more defined than she realized. Whether or not that’s true, she’s not sure. But he’s definitely very, _very_ attractive right now. She doesn’t know if that’s her brain or her hormones talking.

 

Then her eyes travel to his body. His breathing is deep but normal, chest slowly inhaling and exhaling. He has her under the shape of his body – their legs between each other and his hands planted firmly on either side of her. If she didn’t find him so alluring, she’d pull him down for a kiss. But she likes what she sees and she’s going to take him all in before she lets him take all of her.

 

Kyoko isn’t one to care much about the machismo of a man but there’s just something enthralling when he has control of her. He’s in charge but she’s still safe and that’s more than she had ever hoped for.  And how his pants are around the middle of his thighs is just as compelling to stare.

 

The tease is sexy but she needs to remind him she can be sexier. Kissing, nibbling, licking – it’s a lot of stimuli and Kyoko is enjoying it. But she can give just as much, if not more, with less. He leans down for a kiss, maybe towards her neck or her cheek, but she stops him with a finger and pushes him back up to hover above her. He blinks and starts watching her but he’s not disappointed. The way he looks at her is encouraging, regardless if he had plans to lead tonight.

 

She opens the rest of her gloved fingers to caress his cheek, almost like a sort of “Thank you but I’ll take it from here.”  Then she trails her hand down his chest, and back up a few times, making her fingers trace or lightly press into the crevices between his muscles. It would be easier to flip their positions but both of them know that Kyoko is in control now, even with his body on top of hers.

 

“Makoto?” She brings her hands to his hips.

 

“Yeah…?” He swallows.

 

“Is there… _something_ -“ Kyoko brings one leg up and brushes the inside of his thigh with the side of her calf. “-you want to do for me?” She uses her foot to push his pants down to his knees. “Or maybe…” One hand slides to the middle of his abs and two fingers hook on the hem of his boxers. She gives them a tug, encouraging him to either close some of the space between them or give her some eye candy. “… something you can _give_ me?”

 

He gave her both.

 

“I could lots- things- give to you yeah,” Makoto’s wide eyed, face redder than the hearts on his boxers.

 

“Lot of things.” He looks to the right. “That I could give.” To the left. “To you.” He looks down – right at Kyoko’s bare chest then abruptly anywhere else that wasn’t her. Slowly, Makoto lowered his face into the crook of her neck – face burning –  and quietly mumbles, “I could give you a lot of things.”

 

Kyoko chuckles to herself and decides that’s enough teasing and gently runs a hand through his hair. “Such as?” She knows if Makoto ever did anything that bold to her, she’d be just as stunned.

 

She feels him breathe out slowly and swallow, trying to regain his composure. “I could give you some kisses,” he says, albeit a little shaky and still hiding his face. Makoto takes a breath and crawls down to leaves kisses on her collar bone, progressively getting lower. He places a few more playful pecks before giving a love bite on the sweet spot between her sternum and her breast.

 

“I also know you like it kind of rough,” he mumbles between nibbles which sounded more like “I alsho know you lih ih kih uh ruh.” Kyoko finds it difficult to understand how he can be so cute yet sexy at the same time.

 

“You’re quite a gentleman,” she says, teasingly even though Makoto is doing a better job than she is. He crawls lower to her stomach. After having both his hands hold himself above her, he puts most of his weight on his left hand. Kissing softly, peppering her with affection, his right hand traces from her sides to her thighs. “You think so?” he asks after another kiss. “I think I’m a little selfish sometimes.”

 

He scoots lower along her body and kisses the inside of her thigh. No smirk, no blush, no sense of dominance or nervousness. He casually says “You said I could eat if I was hungry.”

 

_Holy shit. / Fuck me. / I love you._

 

Kyoko’s in shock wondering which thing to say or how to say all three simultaneously. Her stunned silence and wide eyes makes Makoto grin and sweetly kiss her other thigh. Makoto’s hands are warm but he can feel how hot her skin is compared to his. Her bashful blush doesn’t escape him.

 

“You’re cute,” he whispers softly.

 

She’s not sure if she actually heard him but reading his lips, she’s embarrassed enough to cover her mouth and look away. Kyoko feels him shift to be level with her but not without peppering kisses up her body. No teeth, quick pecks, or sensitive spots. They’re loving, tender, thought out kisses keeping the fire in her body lit between the seconds of no contact as he comes back to her.

 

He kisses her hands over the leather, eyes closed.

 

He murmurs, lips still against her glove, “I love you.”

 

She glances at him and quickly looks back to the spot on the wall she was previously staring at. He didn’t see. Slowly, she brings her hands to his face and cups his cheeks. She leans up to kiss him – embrace him for everything he is – and to say “I love you too” without saying it.

 

The fervor from before is gone but not the love that persists and permeates their lives. He reciprocates completely, matching her affections. He kicks off his pants, now only in his boxers, and kisses her forehead when they break apart. He sits back on his knees and admires her for a few moments. She lies before him ready and in love. Then he moves back a bit, giving him space to lay forward and slide his arms under her legs.

 

A sharp ping interrupts the air around them – the tone reserved for urgent messages.

 

Kyoko exhales and sits up with no trace of embarrassment on her face. Makoto moves back to give her space. She reaches over to her discarded jacket rummages around for her workphone. Before she unlocks it, she looks over to Makoto. He’s smiling, cherry pink cheeks, and patiently sitting on his knees with his boyish grin – juxtaposed with the raging erection attempting to poke through his heart print boxers.

 

The soft-natured headmaster of Hope’s Peak Academy can pitch quite the tent.

 

“Did you need me to leave,” he asks, about to get up.

 

“No,” she says flatly.

 

A pause to look at him longer. She clears her throat and brushes a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

 

“Makoto?”

 

“Yes?”

 

Another pause before she looks away.

 

“You’re cute.”

 

Makoto felt himself fall in love with her all over again.

 

Wherever the lustful nature went, Kyoko doesn’t know. But the bashful blushing and the nervous laughter was just as good.

 

“But I do need my files. I left my my things in the kitchen.” Her face is still warm but Kyoko can feel herself cooling down. “Could you get it please?”

 

“Yeah sure.” Happily smiling, he gets up and makes his way toward the door but not without picking up his pants. Wadding it up, he gives it a petty throw into the hamper.  He detours to pick up his discarded shirt and throws it in as well then putting his belt in his dresser next to the door. Finally, he heads for the kitchen.

 

Kyoko wonders what it is about domestic responsibilities that could possibly make a man so… enticing.

 

Shaking the thought and unlocking her phone, her expression drops when she reads the text from Byakuya.

 

“The call is getting moved earlier.” - 6:27, Togami

 

“We can’t do much about it but it’s just the usual status report so it shouldn’t be a big deal.” - 6:27, Togami

 

“To 6:30, btw.” - 6:28, Togami

 

Kyoko didn’t even have time to swear under her breath when her phone started ringing. Picking up the call and bringing the phone to her ear, she coldly says, “That’s quite the warning, Togami-kun. Any particular reason you thought this would be convenient?”

 

“I didn’t think it would be convenient but I knew you would pick up.”

 

Kyoko can’t make a snide response to that, she _did_ pick up.

 

“But yes, I am sorry for the inconvenience.”

 

Byakuya Togami just apologized to her. She’ll let it slide then. “So why are we doing this now instead of later,” she asks as she gets up from bed. She walks over to her now button-less shirt and balances the phone with her cheek and her shoulder as she slips it on.

 

“I wasn’t told why, just asked. So I was ordered to. But like I said, it’s just a status report,” he mechanically answers. Though it has no bearing on how irritating it is, she radically accepts being cock-blocked by Future Foundation.

 

“Happy birthday, by the way.”

 

“Thank you.”

 

Plopping herself back into bed, Kyoko makes herself comfortable and pulls the covers over her legs. The prospect of sex made her oblivious to the air conditioning - she could feel her skin beginning to prickle. Better yet, she should probably redress herself and get settled in for more of Munakata’s criticizing and Togami’s flagrant indifference. But if she’s going to endure this headache of a phone call, she might as well not expend the energy to put on clothes for people who weren’t even going to see her. Still, she does want to get out of this skirt. She braces herself for the cool air and leaves the warmth of the bed.

 

Yeah, no, too cold. She hops back in and makes mental note to turn the thermostat up.

 

Makoto comes back with her notebook and a glass of water. Noticing she’s on the phone, he nods and smiles at her. He sets the glass down on the bedside table and holds her notebook out to her. She could probably just ask him to do it.

 

“Were you actually in the middle of something?” Togami asks. She can hear rustling paper from his end.

 

“I was,” she responds. She reaches out to grab her notebook and mouth “thank you” at him but stops to think.

 

It’s her birthday.

 

The love of her life is in front of her in nothing but his socks and boxers, still rock hard.

 

 _It’s her birthday_.

 

This phone call is going to take too long.

 

**_It’s her birthday._ **

 

She’s still turned on.

 

**_It’s her god damn birthday._ **

 

**…**

 

...

 

It’ll be fine.

 

Probably.

 

She takes the notebook and using her other hand, pulls the phone away to whisper to her fiance. “Makoto, go ahead and eat dinner.” As if what she said was completely normal for their situation, she put the phone back on her shoulder and clasps it with her cheek. Flipping open her notebook, she finds her report page.

 

Makoto is confused. Not only was she referring to dinner (for some reason) but the page she’s looking at is messy. At first, she wrote in-line but began to drift off, jump the page, and her last scribbles were circled. His fiance is more methodical and meticulous than that.

 

Kyoko hears Byakuya ruffle a few more papers before hearing what sounds like a full binder being carelessly opened and papers being turned in large chunks. He clears his throat before asking, “Dinner? That’s quite inopportune.”

 

Makoto is still standing there, unsure what to do with himself. Eat dinner? In the bedroom? He hasn’t even started cooking, why would he

 

Oh.

 

_Oh._

 

Kyoko smirks at Makoto when he pulls off the covers. “He wouldn’t admit it but he’s been famished all day, saving space for a nice birthday dinner. I’m truly the lucky one, I should say,” she says, that comment intended for Makoto with Byakuya simply as a bystander. She can’t see it but knows full well Byakuya’s making his disgusted face. Byakuya Togami won’t say outright he’s a believer of hope so things like “love” and “friendship” would be even harder to publicly support.

 

“I suppose it’s that time,” Byakuya says, dialing in Munakata’s office number.

 

Meanwhile, Makoto’s overcome with a sudden meekness. Maybe it’s Byakuya on the phone, maybe it’s the fact that there’s a phone call with his boss (and essentially the head of the federal government) happening in the same room. But can he really complain when he did a similar thing with a friend in his office a few months ago? Then again, Asahina compared to Munakata is on a different magnitude.

 

“Makoto, can you get the heat? It’s a little cold,” Kyoko says, slipping her skirt off. Picking her notebook back up, still balancing the phone between her cheek and shoulder, she nonchalantly begins scribbling in it with the pen attached to the ribbon bookmark.

 

“Good evening, apologies for moving the time,” Munakata says. Kyoko’s phone isn’t particularly loud but the silence in the room with Makoto timidly standing there makes it easier for him to hear. “Let’s get started.”

 

Munakata is straight to the point as ever.

 

Swallowing, Makoto recomposes himself and climbs into bed - namely, on top of Kyoko. He goes for her neck, opposite the side of the phone and kisses as silently as he can. Throwing her notebook somewhere to the side on the bed, Kyoko uses her free hand to grasp at his hair.

 

“Kirigiri-san, are the current reports in line with last year’s predictions?”

 

Naegi nips at her neck, leaving a love bite right above her collar bone. “ _Ah!_ Tha-that’s um…” she clears her throat. “That was a matter of contention today at the meeting. Administration reports a _aaah_ both an unexpected surplus in funding as well as a deficiency in classroom resources.”

 

Makoto wasn’t necessarily _unhappy_ with his birthday present but this was payback to some degree. With a curative kiss over tomorrow’s future hickey, he crawls down to her chest. She looks at him with pleading eyes, begging to ravish her and show no restraint.

 

He’ll comply.

 

“Last year’s acquisition forms hav _ngghh_ -” a caress of her breast interrupts her train of thought. Makoto’s warm hand glides over her, thumb intentionally grazing her hardening bud. “...Have been completed as of last week. S-so some of the administration went ahead and bought the lacking supplies for the last classrooms that have yet to be fu- _AH_ -funded,” He uses his position to take her breast in his mouth, much like before, but with more usage of his tongue.

 

Her whole body trembles as she stifles the sounds threatening to come out of her.

 

“Are you alright, Kirigiri-san? I heard there’s a cold going around at Hope’s Peak?” Munakata asks. He’s pushing it a little too close so he should probably back off. Unstraddling Kyoko, he lays next to her. On his side, he massages her: hips, thighs, stomach, and anywhere else that seemed cold.

 

“Please feel free to get some rest,” Munakata says with a hint of annoyance.

 

Albeit the fact Munakata doesn’t sound concerned, The Final Killing Game really threw him into a new perspective. It was hard for him to throw away his fatalistic thinking, and he still struggles with it, but he must also live with the deaths of his friends and loved ones. Had he been a little more empathetic, maybe they wouldn’t have di-

 

“I’m just cooking dinner. I apologize, Makoto usually does the cooking and it’s harder than it looks,” Kyoko says, interrupting Makoto’s thoughts. He stops his hand from gliding over her to gently caress her cheek with two fingers.

 

Kyoko clears her throat.

 

“Married life, you know how it i-... Well, anyway,” Kyoko starts but Makoto won’t hear the rest of it. He turns away, hand clasping to his mouth as he stifles an awe and a chuckle. He really shouldn’t be laughing at the man who lost his lover _and_ best friend but that was Kyoko’s eternal payback. He long forgave Munakata for giving him a right thrashing but Kyoko never will.

 

And she intends to make Munakata know that.

 

With a final cough, he turns back to his lover, ready to finally give her a proper birthday present. With another kiss to her cheek, he scoots down to her hips. He shuffles over so he rests comfortably on his stomach (as comfortable as he can with a hard-on threatening to pierce their mattress) and hooks his arms under her thighs. Right where he left off before they were so rudely interrupted, he kisses the inside of her thighs softly. A good massage makes for a good orgasm he learned throughout their relationship.

 

Before bringing his hands back to her body, he smooths the bedding down not in some regard for tidy linen but to create friction for warmth. Smoothly, he glades his hands from the sheets and up her thighs. Not too warm and not as cool as the air conditioning wants, she closes her eyes and just feels him touching her.

 

Munakata stifles… _something_ . A cough? A sigh? _A sob?_ Regardless, he continues. “Yes… well… Um…”

 

A few seconds of silence for the phone call, light lapping noises in the bedroom. Sparks shoot through her body when Makoto experimentally licks around her labia.

 

“But everything else is in order,” she huskily whispers. “If anything, _we should hurry up_ … with implementing the new subcommittees... that is."

 

Makoto stops mid-lick at the crest of her thigh and her sex. He looks up at her, Kyoko’s eyes still shut, and grins. He gingerly laps at her slick folds and her hips buck. Her eyes shoot open while her mouth clamps shut, biting her bottom lip to stop herself from moaning right into the phone. Eyes open or closed, she can feel him smirk as he laps at her again, this time with more care.

 

He licks from her opening, goes up, and just barely misses her clit. A few more repeated licks before he goes back to soft, grazing kisses on her thighs.

 

Togami speaks up, “Subcommittees? We haven’t even started the on-site analysis for next year’s renovation.”

 

“Then we should get start the _hands_ _on projects already_ ,” she _demands_. “Sir, if we want to get Hope’s Peak, and the rest of the community moving, we should start soon. As things are we- _ah_ … We’re… we’re feeling good about how things are.”

 

Kyoko’s huffing, taking one hand to readjust the phone away from her yet still able to listen. She flips it so the microphone is closer to her hair than her mouth. With some feeling of safety, she lets out a higher-pitched huff, closer to a moan.

 

Her writhing and mewling is more than exciting for Makoto - so exciting it’s painful. If he could just take her now, he would. Be he wants to keep his job and their livelihood so hearing Kyoko turn into a mess and dry humping the bed is all he’s going to get for now.

 

Another minute of silence on the conference call. Kyoko is made just aware from how wet she is.

 

“I see. That… um… that should be enough on that then,” the head of Future Foundation says lowly.

 

Makoto takes the hint and unhooks his right arm from under her. Slowly, _oh so slowly_ , his hand makes its way from her knee to her thigh and _god damnit Makoto!_

 

She gives his face a light squeeze with her thighs while her other hand grabs at his hair for some purchase.

 

Gently, he teases her entrance with his index finger. He tries to slide in slowly but the lubrication has made her virtually frictionless. He was going to tease to her G-spot but she shunts her hips. She’s burning hot.

 

Granting her some relief, Makoto stops his ministrations and teasing. Forming a small O with his mouth, he envelops the whole of her clit and creates a bit of suction. With a firm hold on her, he gently prods with his tongue while his finger curls on the walnut sized spot inside her.

 

Kyoko lets go of the phone as she stifles her moan with both hands. In her haze, she scrambles to find her phone again and regain her voice.

 

“-ich is why we should probably go forth on that plan. Any objections?”

 

Byakuya answers with a quick no (was that a stutter she heard?) and the call waits for Kirigiri’s answer. Thinking through her words, she finally says, “ _Yes, whatever finishes the fastest_.”

 

Cautiously, Makoto teases her entrance with a second finger, tentatively inserting it for her sake. In their previous, heated romps, she’s asked for him a little too soon and found herself unable to walk the following day. As stirring a sight as it was to watch her stumble around the office in an unsuspectingly graceful manner, he doesn’t want to take her out of commission. She yelps in a mix of surprise and pleasure.

 

“So, to recap, we all agree to skip the training period and allow the subcommittees to collaborate” Kyoko can’t hear anymore. There’s too much noise in her head to even listen.

 

Alternating from pushing down on her walls and curling his fingers up, Makoto begins a fervent assault on her clit. Two upward strokes, _turn hand_ , one clockwise circle, _turn hand_ , one counterclockwise, repeat. Two upward gra-

 

And Kyoko’s thrown the phone to the side, almost off the bed, and starts desperately grasping at his hair and the sheets.

 

“Ma _aah!_ _Nghh! P-please…!_ _Makoto!_ ”

 

Above speech and below screaming, Kyoko calls out to him.

 

“Don’t stop!”

 

Gladly, he keeps going until her orgasm washes over her like a light. Her hips jerk, toes curl, and Kyoko holds on for dear to life to whatever is in her hands: sheets and Makoto. Once free from the grasp of her thighs, Makoto sits up.

 

He takes the back of his hand to wipe off the glistening fluids running down his chin.

 

Unable to open her eyes, she blindly searches for the phone, dragging her hand along the bed. Makoto reaches over and hands her the phone. She’d say thank you but she doesn’t have the strength. Back to her ear, she catches the last bit of Byakuya.

 

“-hould conclude the status report.”

 

Munakata ruffles through some papers before thanking the two of them.

 

“Please continue your hard work. And Kyoko, happy birthday.”

 

Out of breath, Kyoko chokes out a, “Thank y… you, sir…”

 

Pleased as punch, Makoto lays back beside her, one hand propping his head up while the other plays with her tousled hair.

 

“I’ll… keep se… sending… up… updates… sir.”

 

And with that, she hangs up and drops the phone. Sliding off the pillow, off the bed, and with an uncomfortable clatter on the floor, her phone ends up somewhere below them. With the last of her strength, she turns to her lover. With no energy left, she doesn’t bother to say anything to him, only snuggling up to his chest and trying to catch her breathe.

 

“Happy birthday, Kyoko,” he says happily. He plants a kiss on her forehead then massages her shoulder with his free hand.

 

With a calmer paced rise and fall of her chest, she runs her hand up his thigh, over his shivering body, and up to cup his face.

 

“I should return the favor, no?” For the first time tonight, Makoto’s face turns redder than hers. He takes her hand and rests it between them.

 

“Kyoko, I know I just ate,” which earns him a playful slap to the chest “but I’m actually kind of hungry.”

 

Smiling, she sits up and stretches. A little dizzy and still coming down from her orgasmic high, she sways a little.

 

Quickly sitting up, Makoto holds her by the shoulders to steady her. “Are you alright?”

 

“I… I think you might need to carry me.”

 

“Huh?” It sounded more like a _haaah_ since his jaw dropped.

 

“Makoto, it’s my birthday,” she says plainly as she holds her arms out, ready to be swept off her feet.

 

“Wait, that’s not-” he starts but gets cut off.

 

“You’re right, I should get dressed first,” she says, up on her feet as if she wasn’t just winded minutes before.

 

Standing and stretching, she makes her way to the clo– … hamper? She slips off her tattered shirt and switches it out for his shirt. Putting it on, buttoning only the middle button, she walks to her armoire and gets out some panties. Sliding them on, she looks over her shoulder. “Don’t you want dinner, Makoto?”

 

Lower jaw still detached from upper, he blanks on how to say, “I love you.” With grace, beauty, and other ethereal aspect of her, she’s just so amazi – and she’s stumbling out the door. He finds it in himself to get to his feet and laugh.

 

“Ky-haha, Kyoko! Wait!” he calls, jogging after her. Almost into the kitchen, she stops at the doorway to see what he's chasing her down for. He gets to her, arms instantly around her waist, and kisses peppering her cheek. “I’m _chu_ in _chu_ love _chu_ with  _chu_ you _chu chu chu_ ,” he declares between kisses.

 

His hair tickles her face as he kisses everywhere he can, rewarding him with a giggle. “Makoto, I love you too.”

 

Stopping his onslaught and moving to clasp both her hands, he says with determination and conviction,

 

“I can’t wait to live the rest of my life with you.”

 

She’s stunned, breathe stolen more than it has been that day. And Makoto continues.

 

“You’re always so calm and logical and the times you’re spontaneous and amazing, I just…” he stops, looking around the room as if the word he’s looking for would be written somewhere. “I fall in love with you more and more each day.” He sputtering off with hearts in his eyes.

 

“And cook you dinner. And buy you flowers. And do chores while you relax.”

 

Kyoko cuts him off with a playful kiss that quickly melts into a passionate one. Once they break away, she puts a finger to his lips. “Makoto, I’ve already agreed to marry you. Now c’mon, aren’t you hungry?” She doesn’t wait for a response before pulling him into the kitchen. She’s heading to the counter, pulling off her gloves and reaches for the cutting board.

 

But Makoto steps in and ushers her to the table instead. “It’s your birthday, I’ll cook.” She hesitates but concedes when he happily starts chopping away.

 

“I can at least help,” she interjects as she pilfers through her stuff she left before their tryst.

 

Makoto keeps chopping away. “Nope, it’s your birthday.”

 

“Fine, fi-” Kyoko stops as her stomach drops. On her personal cell phone, she has a slew of texts from Byakuya.

 

“Cooking? I thought he was eating dinner.” - 6:35, Togami

 

“What the hell are you two doing?” - 6:42, Togami

 

“(1/3) I CANT BELIEVE YOU TWO. STOP THAT THIS INSTANT I DO NOT WANT TO HEAR YOU TWO AND YOUR DISGUSTING LOVE. I DO NOT WANT TO HEAR IT. CANT YOU TWO STOP BEING TEENAGERS AND DO YOUR JOBS? IF YOU TWO WERENT I-” - 6:49, Togami

 

She unlocks her phone and begins typing up a response.

 

Makoto stops what he’s doing and turns to her.

 

“Is something wrong?”

 

“No, nothing.”

 

“Try and fire me, rich boy.” - Sent 7:09

 

Makoto wipes his hand on the kitchen rag, giving her a quizzical look.

 

“But Togami-kun may have some words for you next time you see him.”

**Author's Note:**

> “Pussy like girls, damn, is my pussy gay?  
> It's a holiday- Play with my pussy day!  
> Pussy this, pussy that, pussy takin'  
> Pussy ride dick like she a Jamaican  
> Pussy stay warm, pussy on vacation  
> You loose bitches need a pussy renovation  
> You can eat it with a pussy reservation  
> Pussy 'bout to get a standing ovation.”
> 
> -Nicki Minaj, Boss Ass Bitch (Remix), 30th of December 2013
> 
> also i know that according to the wiki, theres a chance that 14 is now the head of FF and munakata fucked off but this isn’t that kind of fanfiction because kyoko is a bad bitch and deserves to get that pussy ate!!!!!!!!


End file.
